


Zuko's Journey: The Avatar and the Prince

by Avid Moron (Nevermore9)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Story, M/M, Zukaang - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5340812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore9/pseuds/Avid%20Moron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sokka and Katara's fishing trip had gone as expected? What if a Fire Navy ship, running aground an iceburg, discovered something the people of the Four Nations had only heard about in legends? And what if Prince Zuko now had the Avatar?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zuko's Journey: The Avatar and the Prince

A whirling hurricane of emotion submerged Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation in abyssal waters. Pride swelled in his chest the same time relief sighed from his breath, grief sunk on his brow, and confusion puzzled his eyes. The shadow lit room, from the edge of the bed, was almost dream-like. The corners of Zuko's chamber washed away in the candle light, becoming hazy in his mind as the realization dawned over him. The realization that the Avatar was shut away, just down the hall; that the Avatar was Zuko's prisoner, and that Zuko could go home.   
Zuko had victory. The restoration of his honor, too, was a mere sea away. Things such as these should let a prince be at peace, to sleep easily, but Zuko didn't feel at peace. Tension still weighed heavy on Zuko's muscles as he turned over in his bed. Anxiety still knit itself through Zuko's thoughts as he vainly closed his eyes, wishing for some reprieve. The Avatar, a century old, a century to master the four elements, captured all too simply. Broken from the ice and pulled unconsciously aboard his metal cage, his prison. What was to happen if, or rather when the airbender awoke?  
The rolling of metal locks roused Zuko from his solemn contemplation. A scowl replaced those wide eyes, expecting a footsoldier's report, though lessened when the calmness of Zuko's Uncle's voice came instead. "My nephew, I thought you'd like to know that the Avatar is, no longer in his cell."

Aang's eyes rolled open to the coldness of a firm metal ceiling. His brain swum, groggy with a sense of disarray and fatigue. He arched up with a deeply weary groan, his limbs aching terribly from disuse, as if he was a long forgotten skeleton unearthed for the first time in a millennium.  
It took a few precious seconds for the airbender's eyes to re-synchronize themselves to each other. The sharp and rigid contours of the unforgiving iron box emerging from Aang's cloudy vision was not a welcoming sight. The strange unfamiliarity struck Aang with a newfound feeling of dread, eating a larger hole through him still as his mind fully cleared. This was not the Southern Air Temple. Metal was a substance scarcely glanced upon by the airbending monks; favoring the solitude found within gracefull halls of alabaster stone, lined with statues of helpful skybison and old sages in meditation.   
Rising to his feet, Aang rubbed away the legion of questions which throbbed at the back of his tattooed head. With a quick glance about the small room he occupied, it was clear to Aang that there was very little to clue him into his location. Nothing adorned the iron crafted walls of the chamber, only a sheetless bed stood at its center. No voices called to him from the bolted door, no footsteps were heard in the outside halls. The unsettling creaks and moans of the surrounding vents and floors were the sole sounds audible to Aang's rounded ears. Something, however, wobbled him off balance in its easeful swaying. At first Aang mistook the rockings for his own exhausted body, stumbling as he acquired the taste for movement once more, but gradually, as his feet steadied he could still sense the slightest shift of his stance. Ocean! The young monk, who had never strayed from the high mountains of his tranquil temple, was on a ship!  
Suddenly, a clang of the lock-wheel spinning out of place alerted Aang to an approaching presence. He stared at the thick sealed door before him with a curious turn of his head, gears banging as locks were undone one after the other. When fresh light had finally peeked into the darkness of Aang's cell, and red lanterns from the corridor illuminated the face of his captor, the airbender drew back it terror. A skinless skull sat atop the armor clad sculpture in front of him, gazing to him with soulless eye sockets. The airbender boy's heart would have stopped right then hadn't the warrior been even more taken aback than Aang, as if not expecting to find him so alive.  
The regalia clad skeleton fell back into an offensive position, steadying his hand. Though by that time Aang had acted and taken his chance, spiralling around the room from top to bottom in a flurry of wind, before sliding out through the warrior's widened stance. The airbender had dashed down the hallway before the opposing firebender could turn to face him, breezing by like a harsh gust of air.   
Enclosing metal slabs, too close for comfort, too close for movement, confined Aang on all sides. He had escaped one iron box and entered into another. He couldn't possibly comprehend how any crew could navigate these thin passageways with losing their minds and all going mad. It certaintly was a drastic change from the freedom of spaced temples and open aired mountaintops that the boy was so comfortably accustomed to.  
Nevertheless, despite his claustrophobia, Aang hurriedly zipped through the little niches of the sea born vessel at the speed of an eyeblink. He could have sworn he raced by an agape soldier, flabbergasted at almost being toppled by a boy lithe as wind, though Aang couldn't be quite sure. He called out an echoing "sorry" just in case.  
Spilling out into a larger main hall, Aang had to pause for a quick breath. His knees buckled under him, not used to the treatment most young airbenders expose their bodies to daily. He huffed out several puffs, and puffed out several huffs, until a heavy boot digging into an iron surface sent Aang panting around a corner. He had pressed himself paperthin to the wall opposite the nearing footfall, listening intently for sign of a clear pathway, and halfway leaped out of his arrow tattooed skin at the calm voice which hit him on the back. "Hiding from someone, are you?"  
Slowly, very slowly, Aang turned around, holding his breath. The bearded man with the potbelly who came into sight sat compsedly at a Pai Sho board, baring a peacefully contented face, the same face which had called softly to the airbender. Aang let a bead of respite roll down his temple, as he wondered whether the man had been waiting hours, for his arrival, expecting him. Those greeting child-like eyes, gesturing to the seat across them, strangely compelled the boy forward.  
"Do you know where I am?" Aang questioned, slumping his rear into the beckoning chair. "Where're we going?" He saw the gray-haired man inhale deeply at his questions, seeming more interested in Pai Sho tiles and running fingers through his beard.  
"You're a guest on Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation's ship, Avatar; on course for the Fire Nation Capital, to be delivered to the Firelord." Iroh stated matter-of-factly.   
"Fire Nation!? Firelord?" Aang blurted out, scratching his bald head, thouroughly baffled. "What does he want with me?"  
Iroh let out a long exaggerated shrug. "Only my brother knows." He said, gaze downcast, as if fearing some looming dark cloud.   
"Your brother?"   
"My brother is Firelord Ozai. I don't think you will be seeing him the same way he will seeing you, Avatar." Iroh answered, boring his sharp eyes to Aang's muddy gray ones, his words taking on a dim note of severity. Aang couldn't help but feel the grim warning settling over him, building a heavy in his throat.   
"What about this Prince Zuko?" Aang asked, raising an eyebrow to divert the subject away from Firelords and plans, and wanting nothing more than to settle this whole ordeal with the man heading this metal beast under his feet. "Can you take me to him?"   
Iroh sighed into the hairs on his chin, looking more dissappointed than anything. "My nephew will be far more angry than usual, if I brought you to him without all the armies of the Fire Nation around you. Have you seen him angry before?" The man chuckled loudly to himself for a few seconds, his stomach bouncing with every laugh. "And besides, I just put on a pot of tea. Do you play Pai Sho?"  
"Maybe some other time." Aang declined respectfully, yet impatiently. His fingers itched to meet this Zuko, his skin crawled in anticipation of movement, being deprived of it for he didn't know how long.  
"Ah, very well." Iroh groaned, ascending gracefully to his feet. "Though I hope you don't mind fire in your face." The older man said, cracking a tiny smirk as he made his steady way around the game table, walking with a slow yet elegant stride, his hands burried in his sleeves.  
"Can I ask you one more question?" Aang exclaimed inquisitively, lifting himself from the chair. With humble patience he waited for a nod from the other, before continuing, though he hesitated to say the words. "How do you know I'm the Avatar?"   
Iroh merely smiled, meekly, obviously taking some amusement from the subject. Still, somewhere deep within his reply there was a small element of sadness. "Everyone knows who the Avatar is now, young airbender."


End file.
